


Office Romance

by MissFiction



Series: Tumblr Works [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clothed Sex, Desk Sex, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Office Sex, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFiction/pseuds/MissFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In your office relationships and romances are forbidden, in an attempt to keep things running smoothly. Despite these regulations, Steve can’t help but notice you and wish… (x-post from tumblr)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The rules in your shared office space were very clear, and to be honest they had never even been a problem for Steve until you came along. There had been a considerable amount of outrage when it was announced that all office romances were to be discouraged and/or registered if they were already under way. People cried out that it was a breach of privacy, but when you worked in an undercover industry the way you did it seemed prudent to know who could be tied with whom. 

Explicit details were not expected when registering, and employees were hence forth to keep their distance from romantic entanglements with one another. When the pamphlets started circulating among agents there was a quiet rage that permeated most departments, but it quickly progressed into something of an office joke. In fact it had been a running joke amongst the other Avengers, who were mostly annoyed with the new policy, that of course the Cap didn’t have a problem, it’s not like he’d seen anyone in over half a century.

The new rules dictated that agents were not allowed to engage in sexual or otherwise romantic relationships with other members of the company, even if they were in entirely different departments or might rarely come across each other and _especially_ not if they worked in close proximity. Anything deemed as misconduct would result in immediate termination for either or both parties. It was harsh but it kept the workplace clean and running smoothly from that point forward. Even if there was dissent amongst the employees over it.

This had not been a problem at all for Steve. It didn’t really matter all that much, he just went about his business as usually. Until you transferred in following a field injury that left you unable perform. At that point Steve had relentlessly checked these rules over and over again. Right after you had joined the company, in fact, and frequently since. Searching for some sort of loophole that would allow him to ask you on a date. His friends had noticed his obvious behaviour, especially when he was suddenly joining the voices that protested the new policy when he had previously been uninterested.

It wasn’t exactly subtle.

He had been quite taken with you right off the bat. The day you walked in and you had been introduced he knew that he needed to know more about you. When you had gone about introducing yourself to his fellow Avengers he had been dumbfounded when you reached him. You had outstretched your hand for him to shake after introducing yourself, looking up at him expectantly, and he just stared. He was stunned by the clean lines of your red lipstick and then charmed by the warmth of your personality. He was no expert, but he thought there might be some interest stirring in you as well, from the way your lips curled into a sweet little smile and you blushed when he snapped out of it and seized your hand in both of his larger ones.

However, seeing as he was literally Captain America, he was pretty sure if anything were to happen between you and you _were_ caught that he had enough job security that it would be _you_ who ended up losing their job. That was the last thing he wanted. You were perhaps the sweetest woman he had ever met, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for you.

Without a second thought Steve would have taken the risk in a heartbeat if it were only him facing the consequences, but he could not do that to you. You were utterly married to your work, and it was blatantly clear to anyone who spoke to you that you were deeply in love with your job. So, with no other options, he had no choice but to keep his mouth shut.

That wasn’t to say that he stopped being interested in you. He tried, and everyone knew it when suddenly he stopped talking about you all the time, when he stopped trying to invite you to spend time with everyone as a group, and when he actively tried to stop finding you in a crowd whenever people were grouped together in meetings and the like. Despite himself and despite the regulations he still found himself utterly smitten with you, but he tried much harder to hide it.

You saw this drawing away from you as something a little more offensive than what it really was. It seemed like one minute Steve was warm, sweet, and utterly infatuated with you. All the signs pointed to him having something of a crush on you, and you couldn’t have been happier. You had tried to encourage him into asking you out, gravitating towards him whenever you were having a conversation, laying your smaller hands on his arm whenever you were walking somewhere together, and then suddenly he was running cold. He stopped coming by, and when you were in the same room he was careful to stand as far from you as physically possible. This would usually allow for some flirtatious eye contact from across the room, where he might watch you warmly with this boyish grin on his face from his position on the opposite wall, but suddenly Steve always seemed to have something much more important to paying attention to.

That was essentially the structure that led you to today.

While the group waited for the meeting to start, a briefing about an upcoming mission that he, Natasha, and Barton would be cooperatively performing, Steve found himself unable to keep himself from looking around and fidgeting. _Searching_ would likely be the term most people would give it, though he would adamantly deny it should anyone try to call him out on his behaviour. Neither Natasha or Clint commented, but there was a look exchanged between the two as Steve twisted in his seat to see who was coming in, and the looking disappointed when it apparently not who he was waiting for. While these types of meetings were not exactly his favourite thing, they were sometimes the only time that Steve could see you at work. Lately you were more of a secretary than an agent, handling important documents and working behind the scenes due to you recent injury. So you were usually brought to meetings to keep the record and maintain the relevant documents to ensure they were not passed through too many hands.

When you finally arrived, clutching a stack of documents to your chest and opening the door by yourself with your hip, his breath caught in his throat. Your hair was all over the place and your cheeks had a healthy glow that suggested you had probably sprinted here. The limp in your leg was also more pronounced, suggesting that it had probably hurt you to do so. Steve chewed his lip but firmly cast his eyes away from you and stared at the glass of water in front of him. There was just something about you that always forced him to take a moment to stop and stare, and he could not have been more obvious. Time stood still, the world would freeze, his heart would double its pace… He cursed quietly under his breath as his face heated up.

 _There are strict rules in place against dating coworkers for a reason_. He tried to convince himself. Steve had to keep telling himself you were off limits, a personal mantra, despite the dull aching feeling that stirs in his chest. As you apologize for your tardiness and hurry around the large table he cannot help but smile to himself. You place papers down and begin scrawling on some of them. Natasha, who had noticed his eyes following you when you walked in, took his arm when he moved to stand politely as you set up the table in front of you, and told him the same thing he had been telling himself just before you sat down across from him.

“Steve,” she whispered, “you know she’s off limits. Be careful or you’re going to get her in trouble.” Natasha had come to quite like you, and while she wasn’t a fan of the stupid rule either she didn’t want you getting fired because Rogers couldn’t control himself.

She was right, of course, but that didn’t mean Steve had to like it either. He nodded at his red-headed friend and turned his eyes back to the agent at the head of the table, a short man whom he had completely forgotten about, who was front-running this particular briefing. He had scolded you for your tardiness, so Steve already had a particular dislike for him. However since you had arrived, the meeting could begin.

With an air of professionalism, your pen flew across a form that you had placed in front of you, and then you slid it across the table to him. Then another to Natasha, and another to Clint in rapid succession. You kept the pad of paper in front of yourself and scrawled neat cursive notes rapidly across the page as the frontrunner spoke. Your tongue poked out from between your bright red lips while you wrote, focused so completely on the task at hand. Steve smiled gently, completely losing his own focus in favour of watching you work. You seemed tired, based off the vaguely haggard look on your face. He also noticed how your lips curled slowly around the words as you were writing them. Your non-dominant hand hung somewhere below the table; he imagined it rubbing carefully at your injured knee to ease the pain so it wouldn’t distract you, and suddenly he felt protective over you.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, ignoring the pointed look he got from Natasha beside him. He ignored her and pressed on. “You look like you’re still hurting pretty badly. Have you had someone take a look at that?”

You looked up between him and her briefly, your mouth falling open slightly, surprised that he was actually speaking to you for the first time in probably a few weeks. You nodded quickly, glancing up at the front-runner as he cleared his throat and glared at you for seemingly distracting his agents. You missed the angry look that Steve gave him as you went back to writing, sparing Steve one more look and then casting your eyes down.

Steve wet his dry lips and went to ask you something else, eager to have your eyes focused back on him again for some reason, but Natasha jabbed an elbow in his side. He inhaled sharply but took the hint. For now.

As the meeting went on, Steve found that he wasn’t actually paying any attention at all. Which he knew was terrible of him, but maybe he could just ask to see your notes on the meeting later. At the prospect of having a legitimate reason to talk to you after this was over he was even less invested in listening to the short man yammering on. Having you sitting so close to him was difficult. Just because he could not _date_ you without getting you into trouble did not necessarily mean he couldn’t _look_ at you sometimes. It’s not like he could get you in trouble if he thought about you sometimes. Or if he thought a little bit about kissing you, holding you, listening with bated breath while you sighed breathlessly against his…

Steve shook himself and turned his gaze away, which had fallen to the part of your blazer that opened just enough to reveal the pendant laying at your throat, returning to pretending his attention was on their upcoming mission. He stared at the paper you had placed in front of him several minutes ago uncomprehendingly and scolded himself and the warm feeling that had started pooling below his belt.

It wasn’t right for him to think of you like that, but with you sitting so closely to him that he can smell the perfume you dabbed on your skin wafting towards him it was hard to keep his mind from wandering. If he had read you correctly, you were interested in him too. It was hard to _stop_ having feelings for someone when you were fairly certain the potential woman of your dreams was looking at you too. He swallowed large gulps of the water he’d taken earlier and resolved that he would have to do better to compose himself. For your sake.

—

You find yourself completely confused at this point. In your peripheral gaze you keep catching the blond man across from you looking at you with an intensity that sets your skin aflame, but this simply doesn’t add up.

First Steve seems like he wants you. You found yourself gravitating more towards him than anyone else. Then he’s running cold and won’t give you the time of day. _Now_ here he is sitting across from you looking at you like he could tear your clothes off and press those lips anywhere he can reach right here. There’s a warmth behind his eyes that sends your head spinning, and a tension in the way that he’s sitting that leaves you wanting. Steve apparently has a way making your heart pound painfully beneath your breast without even trying, and it didn’t even seem like he knew what effect he was having on you.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, stretching slightly in his seat, looking vaguely tormented and uncomfortable all of a sudden. He taps his closed fist against the table a couple times, and then slouches. His shirt bunches tantalizingly around his broad shoulders, which is where you catch yourself. You inhale sharply and try to keep writing your notes, but it gets more and more difficult to keep your eyes and your hands to yourself. Especially when you know he’s checking you out too.

—

Despite everything, all the talking that he has to do defending himself and you for his interest, all the warning he’s received throughout his investigations of all the rules and regulations that keep him from pursuing you too seriously, something in him just won’t give up. It had been so long since he had actually been interested in someone the way that he was interested in you. The time that he had spent with you so far left him wanting to know more and more. 

The confused, hurt little look that you had been giving him in response to his backing off made him want to forget everything and make you his. The idea of someone on the outside being able to take you out and show you a good time made him furious, but there was nothing he could do about it without jeopardizing your position. Especially when he was doing so without knowing if you were even interested in him too.

Despite it all, by the end of the meeting Steve knows there might be hope for him when he allows himself one more quick look at you, maybe to thank you and ask you for those notes. He starts when his eyes meet yours staring curiously back at him with this soft glazed look, your pen poised above your pad of paper, your cherry lips slightly parted. A blush creeps noticeably across your cheeks at being caught before you duck your head and quickly returned to fervently signing your notes and tearing off carbon copies to give to everyone, which you had apparently had the forethought to provide.

You rush out the room, blushing hard and scattering papers behind you when you throw yourself against the door to open it. Steve glances down at the carbon copy you placed in front of him and sees a little note you’ve left with careful handwriting in the corner that simply reads: _If you don’t stop biting your lips and staring at me like you’re going to rip my blouse open, I’m not going to be able to stay away from you. Is that what you want?_

His heart literally skips in his chest, and hot arousal shoots down his spine. As everyone else clears out of the room Steve decides that he needs an extra moment to compose himself and carefully pushes closer into the table. He folds the paper and tucks it into his pocket, but makes no move to stand. The rules be fucking damned, this was happening. He would make sure of it.

However, you had (in your haste) apparently forgotten how carbon copies worked, since you handed both Clint and Natasha the same papers without a second thought. If they noticed anything they didn’t say a word.


	2. Chapter 2

You could probably count on one hand the times in your entire life that you’ve felt more foolish than you do now, and that was largely because it was not a feeling you were fond of. Where had that moment of boldness come from? Were you literally going insane, is that what this was about? Leaving a risque note for _Steve Rogers_ on a sheet of carbon paper containing top secret transcripts because you were sexually frustrated and tired of his mixed messages had not been on the to-do list today. Royally embarrassing yourself in front of the man you were hopelessly infatuated with had been even lower down than that.

Yet here you were, practically sprinting down the hall with papers falling out of your grip. Throwing yourself against the door had been a mistake, because now all your folders were slipping out of your hands. No one else had even seen what you had done, but you couldn’t help the flaming hot feeling that scorched your cheeks and made your eyes water. The look on Steve’s face when he read that note had let loose a thousand butterflies in your chest all at once; confusion, then his eyebrows shooting almost all the way up to his hairline… and that’s when you took off running.

Steve was a real sweetheart, but you were terrified that what you had just done had constituted harassment. There were rules about this, you had been informed of the protocol upon being transferred in, but that didn’t mean much to you where Steve was involved. You loved your job, but it’s not like you were going to be here forever anyways. So what if you were reprimanded a little bit? You were from a completely different district after all, you were only a temp while your leg healed. Seeing what could happen with Steve, especially after those first few really wonderful weeks of getting to know each other, seemed much more valuable than keeping your temporary superiors happy with some bullshit legislature.

When you got to your office you slammed the door behind you and fell against it. Your leg was practically throbbing from being used so intensely after such a long period of careful movement. You clutched your hair in frustration and panted, sliding down against the door and massaging the tense muscle. You wanted to try this with Steve, but you had obviously misread him yet again. He probably stopped paying you any attention because he didn’t want you to get the wrong idea in the first place, and here you are desperately clinging on? Talk about a royal embarrassment. A tear slipped down your cheek and you sniffled, but you quickly tried to put a lid on it and get back to work.

The day was far from over.

—

Steve sat at the table for another long few moments, waiting impatiently for everyone else to clear out. People assumed that he was naive and woefully oblivious when it came to all things romantic, and while to a certain extent he could agree that was fairly accurate, he certainly wasn’t an idiot. Receiving a note like that, a note that specifically proclaimed at least a fair amount of returned interest on your part, meant that he was done tiptoeing around you. He was done pretending he wasn’t looking at you when you walked in the room, and he was done letting the agency have more control over his love life than he did.

The way your skin had flushed when you went bolting out the door had been just about all the confirmation he needed.

After everyone was finally gone, Steve was after you.

—

The door opened with a resounding _thunk_ against the back of your head.

“Oh, shit!” you yelp, quickly moving out of the way and rubbing the sore spot. The door opened again, this time much more slowly, revealing the blond object of your affections himself. You gaped at him wordlessly for a moment before gesturing past yourself so he would come in. However he didn’t move straight to the chair to have a serious discussion about sexual harassment like you’d thought was coming. Instead his hands came to rest on your cheeks, pulling you forward insistently. You thought for half a second he was going to kiss you, but he was just looking over the bump on your head.

When he was satisfied with whatever he saw he did press a small kiss to the spot and smiled at you. “Sorry about that, I should have knocked.” You simply stared back at him, speechless. His hands slid down from your cheeks, over your shoulders and dropping with gentle care down the entire length of your arms. You could feel goosebumps rise despite the layers of fabric that rested between your skin and him. “I had to come see you as soon as possible. I had to explain…”

“No, no need to explain! I have to apologize,” you cut him off quickly, not wanting the hear the polite speech of rejection that Steve had likely prepared for you. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I clearly misread something between us, and the last thing I want to do is make you feel weird or, like, jeopardize your reputation here.”

Steve grinned, holding tight onto your hands when you tried to take them back. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he laughed.

“Then, I’m sorry for pushing myself on you when–”

“Nope,” he cut you off, that infuriating grin still on his face. “That’s not what happened here either, doll. You didn’t force anything on me, and I hope you don’t sincerely think that I’d even have a problem with you being forward with me. Please don’t think I pulled away because of anything you did. It’s this place, your job. I swear, I thought you might lose your position if I pursued you too seriously, so I tried to lay off. That was all, I promise.”

You heart felt like it jumped into your mouth. “I’m just a temp,” you told him, “I mean, I have to follow rules while I’m here obviously, but policies like that don’t really apply…? I couldn’t be fired from a jurisdiction I don’t belong to. Could be reported I guess, but…”

That was all Steve needed to hear. The hands that were still holding yours suddenly let go, and seized your hips in a bruising grip. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. One second you’re standing close together, so close you can feel your breath mingling between you, and the next his mouth is on yours. One heartbeat later his tongue is pressing softly against  yours, and then another before your back is pressed against the door behind him. Steve’s strong hands hold your ass up, his body hard against yours, as close as he can get.

Your mouths meet over and over, Steve’s growling voice low in his throat. He pulls away just slightly, far enough to get a look in your eyes, which you’re sure reflect unbearable _want_ back at him. One of his hands rises to take a handful of your hair and tilt your head so he has access to land a few wet kisses and hard nips against the exposed skin he finds around your throat. His hips tilt into yours slightly more insistently to compensate for your shifting centre of gravity, and it causes a shock to run up the length of your spine. The small cry that bubbles from your lips makes him roll his hips against yours harder, trying to draw more of them out. Your hands curl uselessly against his shoulders and the back of his neck while he moves, but he moans appreciatively against your collarbone.

“Steve…” you whine softly, slotting your mouth against his once more before rocking yourself in his strong grip. “Steve, please.”

You’re breathless, and sure you’re practically vibrating against him. It would be embarrassing, but he’s just as enthusiastic as you are when that one hand drifts down from its tight grip on your hair and press upwards inside your skirt, easing slowly along your thigh and gently inside you. His fingers curl against a sweet spot and your thighs actually shake. The look on Steve’s face in response to your rapture makes you wonder how it was possible you hadn’t done this sooner.

“I want you,” he breathes.

“I’m yours,” is your immediate response.

In moments he’s spun you around again and deposited you on the top of your desk, legs dangling off the edge. Your papers scatter all over the floor, and you almost lament the paperwork you’re going to have to redo later, but then Steve is on his knees in front of you and mouthing at your stomach as he pops the buttons off your blouse for access to more of you.

His hands shake noticeably as he tries to shove the tailored skirt up your thighs, but he swats yours away when you try to help him in tugging it up and pushing the stockings down. Steve’s deep blue eyes, mostly black and thinly rimmed now, gaze up at you unflinchingly, almost as if he’s asking your permission. When all you do is whine and card your fingers through his hair, his mouth seals against your clit. Long strokes with his tongue leave you shivering, and it is all you can do to cling to his shoulders when he pulls you to the very edge of the desk and holds you there with one hand. His other hand drops absently below your line of sight, but your imagination fills in a pretty image of it lazily gripping his cock when he groans against you. The soft vibration on your tender flesh nearly makes you come right then and there, but you cling to the edge and bite at your bruising lips in an attempt to stave it off and keep quiet.

“ _Ahh-hha_ , you taste so good…” he murmurs, chuckling deliriously to himself from somewhere below the hem of your skirt, which is wrinkled and bunched around your hips. Your stockings are practically shredded from where he stopped trying to get the sheer fabric off and instead opted for ripping them far enough to guide your panties down and off your feet. Curses drip from your lips amidst a series of gasps, every other word being  _Steve!_ or _fuck, please, more!_

His tongue works over your clit fervently, alternating between long flat licks and small rapid flicks. Your hips rock against his mouth, practically riding his face before suddenly it all stops. Your hips rolls against empty air, and you almost wail in frustration with your hands squeezing his shoulders to convey your displeasure. His palm meets your lower back so he can tilt you entirely at an angle. Steve slides up your body with the entire length of his, bringing his face back to yours and panting, fingers lazily swirling around your clit just to tease you before it falls away again. You can see from this angle that his jeans hanging are open, and his hand strokes the distinct outline of his cock beneath his underwear.

His voice is low, wrecked when he speaks again. “You’re so wet for me now, sweetheart,” he tells you. Your skin burns hot again. “You taste real sweet, but I want you to cum on my cock. Is that what you want, doll? Or do you want me to keep going?” He licks your lips for emphasis, and you kiss him automatically. You’re babbling when you try to express that you want him to fuck you, feeling embarrassed by the sensation of quite literally begging for it on your office desk, but he’s grinning the whole time and pushing the front of his pants down over his hips. You scramble to find an angle that doesn’t strain either one of you on the desk nor inhibits movement. Steve pushes you closer to the middle before lowering himself and guiding his cock to your core. He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and then down to your breasts affectionately before looking into your eyes, seriously and steadily as he eases his length into you. He catches your back when you arch against him, holding you closer.

“I want you,” he whispers in your ears again, a sentence you’re certain you’ll never get sick of hearing, mouthing kisses against your skin, as his hips pick up a slow rhythm punctuated by the sound of his heady groans. “I’ve wanted you for so long. Don’t hold in those sounds, sweetheart, I want to hear you cry for me. Don’t hold back. You can cum, doll. And I’ll bring you back to my apartment, or we can go for dinner, or somewhere else for all I care, so long as I can be with you. I want to make love to you again and again, but I’ll admit this isn’t exactly the romantic setting I’d been planning when I thought about this with you…”

He’s sweet, but you have to shut him up. The way he feels, the way he makes _you_ feel, it’s just too much for your senses to take in all at once. You kiss him as sweetly as you can manage, trying to pour all your affection into him so he understands that it’s okay for him to relax and _feel_ too. When his movements start to get rapid and frantic you rock upward against his pelvic bone for more sweet friction between your bodies, but you know that it’s almost over.

When Steve’s eyebrows knot together and a look of pure bliss contorts his face, mouth hanging wide and hand gripping your body hard enough that you are sure you’re going to see hand shaped bruises in the morning, you know that Steve’s almost spent. His nimble fingers return to your clit with a vengeance, spreading your arousal and assaulting the tender flesh until your own body is convulsing and you can’t help the scream the preludes your orgasm.

“ _I’m coming!_ ” you sob, clenching your muscles around him.  

“ _Fuck_ ,” he grinds out, panting with obvious effort when his hips keep an astonishing pace before he tumbles over the edge on your heels, “ _fuck, me too, oh God_ …”

The room is still spinning when you come back to your senses. Steve has collapsed on top of you, though his weight not unwelcome. Your body still twitching in bliss, you affectionately kiss him wherever you can reach and run your hands along the back of his neck and through his slightly damp hair. He’s got his face buried in the curve of your shoulder, where you can feel him smiling to himself.

The two of you are quiet for a long few moments, basking in afterglow. The silence gives you a moment to assess the papers that are now strewn around the floor at the foot of the table, the haphazard way your laptop and miscellaneous supplies scattered everywhere with the movement of your desk. This was going to be a nightmare to try and reorganize, but you were feeling strangely lighthearted about the whole.

Your chest is still heaving against the pressure of Steve’s weight, but suddenly you’re laughing. It bubbles out of your throat first before it turns into a full-blown snorting laugh that makes your chest ache and your lungs hurt. Steve’s grin matches yours as he starts to chuckle as well, taking in the messy state of both of you. Your blazer hangs off of one arm, your blouse is missing buttons, your skirt is hiked all the way up your legs and stockings dangle uselessly from your hips. One of your shoes is missing, and neither of you could see it under the hurricane-worthy damage around you.

Steve was a little less worse for wear; after he tucked himself back into his pants. At best he look sated and a little worn out. Though the sex hair is a good look for him, you feel so inclined to add.

“I sincerely hope no one out there heard any of that. I know I said I couldn’t be fired, but I get the feeling we’re still gonna get into some pretty big shit over this if we get caught,” you laugh. Steve snorts, but his hand touches your hip anxiously as he eases off and far enough away to get a clear look in your eyes.

“It’s a little late to be having second thoughts now…”

“Hey, no second thoughts here! I’m just saying, I hope you’re planning to help me destroy the evidence before you take me to dinner tonight.”

His eyes practically sparkle when he takes your hand, pulls you up, and starts piling various papers haphazardly back onto the surface you formerly occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, some self-indulgent trash <3 I've been doin' a lot of writing and I realized I hadn't actually been keeping track and maintaining my AO3 recently. Catching up now!
> 
> Can also be found on my writing blog (ms-fiction.tumblr.com)!


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